


5 Embarrassing Things That Happen While They Have Sex

by miera



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is pretty self-explanatory</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Embarrassing Things That Happen While They Have Sex

1.

Ordinarily John has a gift for estimating distances. It comes with the territory of being a pilot: good spatial reasoning skills.

However, he's a _guy_ before he's a pilot and Elizabeth's skin is under his hands. Bare skin, spread out under him. She's pale in the light from the moon coming through the window and her eyes are wide and dark, pupils blasted, her chest moving as she breathes. The sight is almost hypnotic.

He's touching Elizabeth. She's almost naked and he's in her bed and he can't stop filling his hands with her skin, trailing his mouth over her to taste her. He feels almost drunk, if that's even possible.

And even though he knows he's got the world's dopiest grin on his face, it doesn't matter, because she's smiling back at him, even as her hips push up against him and make his eyes cross.

He grabs her, rolling to the side, wanting to move her on top of him so he can see and touch freely. Except in the excitement, he's forgotten that he's in Elizabeth's bed, and that it's barely larger than his twin bed in the dorm in college was.

He registers the error a second too late to stop it. Instinct makes him wrap his arms around Elizabeth and since he's underneath, he takes the brunt of the fall and cushions her body from the impact. He can't keep back the grunt of pain, though. Elizabeth looks skinny but still.

She's looking down at him, startled at first and then pressing her lips together like she's trying not to laugh. Real smooth, John, he thinks to himself. Way to impress the girl you've been wanting to have sex with for two years. He's such an idiot sometimes.

They lay there for a minute, Elizabeth politely not laughing out loud, until he decides offense is better than defense and whines, "Ow."

"At least the fall was pretty short," she teases. The beds are pretty low to the ground at least.

"You need a bigger bed."

Elizabeth chuckles somewhat ruefully and sits up. "Hey, not my fault. I don't usually get so acrobatic on my own." She straddles him, bringing her hips down onto his crotch perfectly, and really, he could go with this position if it wasn't for her bad knee.

She's reaching behind her for the clasp of her bra and John suddenly can't raise his eyes from her breasts (which, okay, isn't all that new), but he does manage to promise, "We haven't gotten to acrobatic yet."

 

2.

Elizabeth likes to believe she's a sexually mature woman. She hasn't exactly played the field in her lifetime, since she's always been more a relationship type, at least since she got out of college. But she's had enough lovers to be fairly confident about her own body.

Except John has located this spot, just between her neck and shoulder and just below the collarbone, and apparently there's a nerve buried there that's hardwired right to her groin. When he kisses her there, his lips soft underneath the slight roughness of his stubble, she melts. When his tongue gets involved her whole body shakes, and God help her if John's gone more than a day without shaving because he can have her panting and moaning in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

She's been thinking about this all day, fantasizing about John kissing that spot and touching her until she falls apart. Thinking about it almost nonstop, and now she's horny as hell. Wall-to-wall meetings will do that to a girl.

He nuzzles her neck and she whimpers, knowing where he's heading and she ignores the smirk she can feel against her skin and grabs for the hem of her shirt to pull it up.

He bites down on her shoulder gently but it makes her curse under her breath and yank the shirt off far harder than she was intending. Her elbow cracks audibly against something hard and John yelps.

When her face is free from the shirt, John is giving her a wounded look like a puppy and rubbing the side of his head. Elizabeth blushes, wanting to die of embarrassment. "Oh, God, John are you okay?"

"Sure," he grimaces. "What's another concussion, really?"

She rolls her eyes a little. She didn't hit him _that_ hard. Still, she did whack him pretty good. Could she possibly have been more ungraceful? "It's not bleeding is it?"

"No."

"Do you need ice?"

"Do you have ice?"

She points towards the mini fridge she'd appropriated for her quarters.

John sits on the bed and Elizabeth grabs the cold pack she'd gotten from Carson at some point and never returned. John's expression is rather distracted by the sight of her shirtless so she figures he's more or less milking this. Playfully she leans down and kisses his injury gently before holding the ice pack over the bruise.

John's hands rest on her hips, his thumbs skimming along her bare skin. "Well if anyone tries to grab you or something, just get your elbow free. You've got a hell of a backhand going on there."

"I could, but that would deprive you of the chance to ride to my rescue," she points out.

He feigns thoughtfulness. "True." He leans forward, kissing her abdomen and she lets out a tiny gasp. "And I like you when you're all grateful and batting your eyes at me."

"I do _not_ bat my eyes at you."

"You do so."

"When have I ever batted my eyes at you?"

"When you were talking about Rodney's crush on that girl on the volcano planet."

"I was being ironic." She picks up the ice pack and double checks that she didn't hit him hard enough to cause a bump.

"It still counts," John grumbles.

"I was talking about Rodney," she adds.

"Yeah, but you were doing it _at_ me." Apparently deciding the bantering is getting them nowhere, John tugs her down into his lap. Before she can come up with a retort, he grins. "I like it when you flirt with me. I always did."

Then he goes for the spot on her shoulder and Elizabeth drops the ice pack and has to cling to his shoulders as her whole body shudders. She'd really like to be irritated with him, especially when he gives her an incredibly smug look, but he hasn't shaved in a few days and her mind is rapidly losing cognitive ability. She just manages to get out, "You did?"

"Why do you think I always flirted back?"

 

3.

As a rule, John has never objected to beautiful women pushing him against a bed or a wall or a counter and ravishing him.

He's hardly going to object to Elizabeth coming in and shoving him against the table in his quarters and kissing the hell out of him.

He's missed her too. It's been a long damn couple of weeks.

Plus Elizabeth in aggressive mode is incredibly hot.

Her mouth is hot on his, her tongue taking control of the kiss, and one of her legs slides between both of his and he moans into her mouth. She tastes perfect and smells incredible and even through all their clothes her body is warm and soft and firm and pressed up against his. Even though they've only managed to shed their jackets so far he's already fully hard and aching. Mindlessly, he grabs her ass, wanting her even closer. Elizabeth damn near climbs up him, wrapping herself around him somehow and his hips arch into hers.

He's so lost in just touching her again that he doesn't notice what's going on, not until it's too late. Not until his whole body stiffens and he gulps out an "Oh" into her lips.

Elizabeth draws back a little in surprise and glances down quickly. "John did you just...?"

He covers his face in his hands.

In his _pants_. He came in his pants, like a teenaged boy. Self-control? Out the window, along with his dignity, apparently.

"Crap," he mutters feelingly. He peeks from behind his fingers and sees Elizabeth's mouth twitching. "Sorry," he offers. He's a grown man. He has better ejaculatory control than this, or at least he's supposed to.

She attempts to play it cool, although he knows she's wanting to laugh her ass off right now. "You didn't realize you were about to, um, go off?"

He shakes his head, scrubbing his hands through his hair. So now he's slightly dazed, completely humiliated and his pants are getting really uncomfortable. "I missed you a lot," he says, slightly defensive.

There's a softness in her eyes underneath the wicked amusement. It makes his heart start to speed up again, nerve endings prickling all over his body.

Elizabeth kisses him. "I'm going to choose to take this as a compliment," she tells him, then pulls away and begins to walk backward towards the bed, beckoning him with a finger. "But if you think you're done here..." She doesn't finish the sentence. The threat is implied, and they both know he isn't that stupid.

"Please," he holds up a hand and then strips off his shirt, following her. "Allow me the chance to make it up to you."

Elizabeth is eyeing him like she's starving and he's an all-you-can-eat buffet and his body twitches at the feral look on her face. Damn, she's sexy when she's like this. She smirks at him and adds on to his last words, "Repeatedly."

 

4.

If she had just ignored it, he probably wouldn't have noticed, but instinct kicks in and she freezes. And her stopping makes him stop and focus on her and that stupid, humiliating little noise. If she hadn't reacted, he probably would've just figured it hadn't been what he thought the sound was and kept going.

Now, though, John's looking up at her in a way that bodes very badly for her pride. "Elizabeth? Did you just-?"

"Don't say it," she groans, hiding her face with one hand.

He's clearly looking for a more polite way to say that she just farted while they were in the middle of having sex. And damn him, he's giving her that shit-eating grin. Oh, God, she's going to be hearing about this for a long time.

"It happens," she says defensively.

"I'm not saying anything."

"You're thinking it."

"Thinking what?" John gives her his best innocent expression which honestly has always made her more suspicious.

"A lot of things, I'm sure," she mutters darkly, hating as always being humiliated for any reason. "For the record I also still get pimples occasionally, I've slipped in my bathtub and my ankles swell from PMS sometimes. Are you happy now?"

He goes just a trifle cool with her for that. "I didn't say anything," he repeats.

Elizabeth sighs, letting the hostility go from her voice. "It's a natural occurrence," she says somewhat feebly.

He nods. "Elizabeth, it's no big deal."

She shifts, emotionally uncomfortable, although the move reminds her of what they were in the middle of a minute ago. "I'm just as human as everyone else."

John nudges her. "Knew that already." She won't admit it, but that makes her heart skip a beat and reminds her why she's in bed with him in the first place.

Her hips rock slightly and her breath goes and John gasps and she tells him the truth. "I hate being embarrassed."

"Knew that too," he tells her, his voice betraying how he's focused back on her body again. "But don't worry. Your secret dies with me."

He pulls her down into a kiss and Elizabeth lets the momentary mortification fall from her mind, as there are much more interesting things to occupy herself with.

 

5.

The words come out with no conscious intent. He has no idea why he says them, what it is that prompted his brain to pick right now. It's been a fairly ordinary night for them. He nagged Elizabeth out of her office before it got to midnight, walked her to her quarters and they came in acting like nothing unusual was happening, not that there was anyone in the hall to see.

Elizabeth nibbled on some of her secret chocolate stash. They talked. They undressed and got into bed and made love.

John's catalogued everything they've done in bed over the years. They've done desperate and frantic, slow and intense, kinky, adventurous and even acrobatic, true to his word the first time.

Tonight was just... sweet. Comforting. _Normal_. If watching and feeling Elizabeth having an orgasm with him could ever possibly be normal or in any way not amazing. John doesn't really think so.

So he has no idea why, when Elizabeth snuggles against his body, he tells her he loves her.

Not that it's not true. Not that he hasn't known this for a while. He's pretty sure Elizabeth has known it too. It just hasn't been articulated before. By either of them.

She stills in his arms and for the longest, most painful moment, John thinks with pure panic that he's just screwed everything up. Deep down he's believed – or possibly just assumed? – that Elizabeth feels the same way about him as he does about her.

Crap. What if he's been wrong?

Paralyzed, he doesn't know what to say. She still isn't moving and John wishes uselessly for a Wraith attack or a transporter or a black hole – something to snatch him out of her bed and away where his humiliation won't be witnessed.

Then Elizabeth turns over and faces him. Her eyes are wide and bright in the moonlight and that soft look is on her face, the one that gives him goose bumps because all her walls and defenses are down and he's seeing Elizabeth, the woman he's sleeping with and in love with, not Dr. Weir.

She touches his cheek and whispers, "Love you, too" just before she yawns and his heart starts to beat again and he sighs in relief.

Elizabeth cuddles into him and John brushes a kiss against her forehead. It's worth the embarrassment to hear her say that, he thinks as he falls asleep.


End file.
